Girl-next-mansion as interpreted by Tinkerbell: April is powerful in singer-songwriter rock.   April Opening for Butterfly Boucher 11:30am at Virgin Megastore/Mockingbird Station, 5307 E Mockingbird Ln, Dallas. 214-615-3887

You can't swing a broken guitar neck in this town without hitting a singer-songwriter -- a male singer-songwriter. The female of the species is a much rarer bird. A female who can hang with Fort Worth's best men, even rarer.

This isn't to say that April (nee April Geesbreght) is fit to carry Tim Locke's or Collin Herring's three-lock box, but unlike about 95 percent of Cowtown's singer-songwriters, she wouldn't embarrass herself performing alongside those titans.

A twentysomething with a massive voice and introspective pen, April can limn the human experience as empathetically as any of her male Fort Worth counterparts. Her debut full-length, the Trent Austin-produced In Other Words, is a Triple-A billet-doux to life, its ups and downs, vagaries and certainties. The woman herself is equally "real." Her look is girl-next-mansion as interpreted by Tinkerbell. Her voice, a sultry instrument capable of slipping from plaintive confession to breathless longing, from ersatz lounge to party cheer, from sentimental whisper to liberating exhortation. The artist isn't about fashion or being "hip." She's about being herself, even if that means assuming the role of a strong female singer-songwriter whose cosmopolitan pop appeal and aw-shucks pleasantness are undeniable.

"I think music is the most beautiful thing ever," she said. "I sometimes feel detached from my own songs. Like they're singing back to me. I'm like, 'Whoa! I wrote that?' Then I realize that I didn't. Something else did."

A native Fort Worthian and youngest of four, April was raised in a musical household. She participated in church band and took piano lessons. She quit the keys after about a year, when she was 11. When she was 16, she got her first guitar. "My brother had one," she said, "and I was always going on trips or camp and someone always brought a guitar. ... You can't take a piano with you."

The whole time she had been writing songs and keeping a journal. She says that she wrote her first few songs when she was about 13, her first "real" song when she was 14. Her ability to articulate emotions better on the page than in speech is likely a result of brotherly jibing she received as a youngster. "Brothers will be brothers," she said. "I could never get a word in. So I thought, 'No one's gonna take the time to listen to me.' I escaped to my room to write."

Some of those songs, according to April, still stand today. "It's good, because my writing has changed," she said. "[Recently] I played a song I used to play in high school. It shows off a different side of me. The old stuff was traditional singer-songwriter [music], in 6/8 tempo. As I've gotten older, I've gotten edgier. Now I need to rock.

"It's just a matter of confidence and experience," she continued. "I always wanted to [rock], but people were always like, 'Aww, sweet little April.' But I wanted to rock."

April kept her talent to herself throughout high school at Country Day. It wasn't until college, at Wheaton in Illinois, that she began performing rock live and taking music as a career seriously, even though her father wanted her to study medicine. Playing mainly coffee houses, the April Geesbreght Band was, according to April, a moderate success. She then transferred to Baylor to complete her degree (in speech communications) and began gigging -- by herself. "It was good for me," she said of performing solo. "I think I got a lot better. I was all focused on me." During college, April churned out a demo and a full-length, further solidifying her direction in life and music.

After finishing her degree, she moved to Dallas and threw herself body and soul into her art. Recorded over six months, In Other Words is as bright and polished as any national label release. Like life, the c.d. is stylistically diverse. The calypso intro to "Lovely Edge" somehow makes sense with the lyrics about our attraction to danger, delivered in proper Beatles-ish manner. The hyper-melodic chorus and sunshine pop of "Dare You to Love," in which April -- in her spunky croon -- essentially threatens a significant other into romantic submission, leads directly to "Walk Me Home," a matchbox 20-inflected torch that finds our domineering young April now on the business end of a defiant stare. Just when it all seems twee brilliance and relationship stuff, "After Me" gives praise with a Shawn Colvin-ish recitative, as April lifts her head, closes her eyes, and freefalls into the lyrics: "I've thrown out the maps / I have / Jumped in the back seat / ... Joy holds me now / Because I know / You know how to get there." One of record's best tracks, it's as much love song as prayer. "I try not to write about Him in an offensive way," she said. "[Being spiritual] is just who I am, and it comes out."

April moved back home in January and is concentrating on music full-time. (On the side, she makes hand-made personalized greeting cards and invitations.) She's been gigging at places like the Ridglea & Vine Wine Room, The Moon, the Ridglea Theater, and The Aardvark. Her goal isn't to get signed -- yet. She first wants to hop on tour with a local band and get her sea legs. "I love Fort Worth," she said. "But this time next year, I hope to be doing something on a bigger scale. ... Playing constantly would be a dream come true for me."

Visit www.aprilsmusic.com for more info.